“You don’t love him enough.”
“Everything I’ve done is for love. Everything.” She laughed humorlessly. “My God … I wonder how you can stand to be with me when you hold such a low opinion.”
“You’re my mother and you’ve always been on my side. You’re always trying to protect me, even if you go about it the wrong way. I love you and Dad both. He’s a good man who deserves to be happy.”
She took a shaky sip of water. “If it weren’t for you, I’d wish we had never met. We both would’ve been happier that way. There’s nothing I can do about it now.”
“You could be with him. Make him happy. You seem to be the only woman who can.”
“That’s impossible,” she whispered.
“Why? Because he’s not rich?”
“Yes.” Her hand went to her throat. “Because he’s not rich.”
Brutal honesty. My heart sank. There was a bleak look in her blue eyes I’d never seen before. What drove her to need money so desperately? Would I ever know or understand? “But you’re rich. Isn’t that enough?”
Over the course of three divorces, she’d amassed millions in personal wealth.
“No.”
I stared at her, incredulous.
She looked away, her three-carat diamond studs catching the light and glittering with a rainbow of colors. “You don’t understand.”
“So explain it to me, Mom. Please.”
Her gaze returned to me. “Maybe someday. When you’re not so upset with me.”
Sitting back in my chair, I felt a headache building. “Fine. I’m upset because I don’t understand, and you won’t explain because I’m upset. We’re getting nowhere fast.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” Her expression was pleading. “What happened between your father and me—”
“Victor. Why don’t you ever say his name?”
She flinched. “How long will you punish me?” she asked quietly.
“I’m not trying to punish you. I just don’t get it.”
It was crazy that we were sitting in a bright, busy space filled with people and dealing with painful personal crap. I wished she’d had me over to her place instead, the home she shared with Stanton. But I guessed she had wanted the buffer of an audience to keep me from totally losing it.
“Listen,” I said, feeling tired. “Cary and I are going to move out of the apartment, get something on our own.”
My mom’s shoulders straightened. “What? Why? Don’t be reckless, Eva! There’s no need—”
“There is, though. Nathan’s gone. And Gideon and I want to spend more time together—”
“What does that have to do with you moving away?” Her eyes flooded with tears. “I’m sorry, Eva. What more can I say?”
“This isn’t about you, Mom.” I tucked my hair behind my ear, fidgeting because her crying always got to me. “Okay, honestly, it does feel weird living in a place Stanton pays for after what happened between you and Dad, but more than that, Gideon and I want to live together. It just makes sense to start fresh someplace.”
“Live together?” My mother’s tears dried up. “Before marriage? Eva, no. That would be a horrible mistake. What about Cary? You brought him out to New York with you.”
“And he’ll stay with me.” I didn’t feel like telling her I hadn’t brought up the Gideon-as-a-roommate idea to Cary yet, but I was confident he’d be okay with it. I would be around more and the rent would be easier to bear when split in thirds. “It’ll be the three of us.”
“You don’t live with a man like Gideon Cross if you’re not married to him.” She leaned forward. “You have to trust me on this. Wait for the ring.”
“I’m not in a rush to get married,” I said, even as my thumb rubbed over the back of my ring.
“Oh my God.” My mother shook her head. “What are you saying? You love him.”
“It’s too soon. I’m too young.”